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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23188054">More Human</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyDeetz/pseuds/DeadlyDeetz'>DeadlyDeetz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who &amp; Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crime, F/F, F/M, Mystery, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, why am I doing this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:47:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23188054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyDeetz/pseuds/DeadlyDeetz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a new girl living on Paternoster Row, a new maid and investigator with the Paternoster Gang. Nancy moved in with the gang a few months ago and Strax is becoming increasingly distracted and confused by her presence.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jenny Flint &amp; Madame Vastra, Jenny Flint &amp; Strax &amp; Madame Vastra, Jenny Flint/Madame Vastra, Strax &amp; Original Female Characters, Strax/Original Female Characters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Introduction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would appreciate any kind of criticism you have for my work! I haven't written anything for so long, I'm getting used to it again. I do hope you enjoy this as much as I am!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What is the point of a clone race? I mean sure, you can pick and choose who to clone and who not to clone. That one came out with a bit of a dodgy knee? Better take a trip to the incinerator. That one developed a genetic mutation which made him slightly more resistant to enemy fire? Better make more. A few million more.<br/>
Picking and choosing different traits, like children in sweet shops, the Kaveetch developed perfect, completely expendable soldiers to protect them from the Rutans, a race which had almost decimated their entire species. The Sontarans were so perfect, in fact, that they eventually surpassed the Kaveetch in physical and mental prowess. The untrained eye might look at the Kaveetch and the Sontarans and see two of the same species. But the differences were there. They could feel it.<br/>
The Sontaran Generals felt it, receiving orders day in day out from the ‘Superior’ Kaveetch. The true members of their species, the members they were created to protect. To fight when they could not and, frankly, would not. Letting them live out their lives, eating and fucking themselves into bliss and old age. </p><p> So again, what’s the point? What’s the point of all this fighting and war just to protect a race of lazy cowards? That’s what the Generals asked themselves as they watched millions upon millions of their brethren slaughtered at the hands of Rutan scum. Though don’t misunderstand, there’s nothing more honourable to a Sontaran than to die in the glory of battle. That’s exactly what they were created to think after all. But what do they win when all of this is over? It has to mean something and for a clone race, with no need for families except for their fellow soldiers, the only thing that is left is themselves and their planet. The glory of Sontar, the home of the Sontarans, not the Kaveetch. Not anymore.</p><p> It wasn’t a long war when the Sontarans finally turned on their creators. Generations of hiding on their planet, focusing all their resources into their super soldiers had taken its toll. They were defenceless, in denial that their only means of defence had inevitably turned against them.</p><p> The Sontarans now had their planet, they had their honour, they had a reason for their lives. </p><p> But now, many more generations later, what reason would an exiled soldier of Sontar need to live? Strax had gone from Commander, to nurse (a fate considered worse than death for Sontarans) and now a Butler in some primitive Earth age. Serving under two women no less! Two women who saved his life, they regularly reminded him and he would remind them that they prevented a glorious death in combat (though he does remember not enjoying the dying part as much as he would have thought). Still his life was as good as it was unorthodox. When he wasn’t acting as a Butler he could be found in Edinburgh, picking fights down at the local pub, or helping his two Mistresses in their sleuthing business. </p><p> Life for the Sontaran on Paternoster Row was just fine. Though being so far from home, probably never to see another Sontaran again, did have its problems. You see, Strax was advancing in age. He thought 12 was a great age when he almost died, as Sontaran clones are at war so much they drop like flies. But in his newer, more comfortable life, there aren't many occasions where his life is truly in danger. He’d reached 27 now! So, so old, yet so, so young as Jenny and Madame Vastra had explained. He’d probably live to be almost 100 at this rate, a thought which gave the Sontaran many sleepless nights. </p><p> There was also another problem. There was a new person living with the trio. His new apprentice, the new girl, Nancy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Nancy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nancy finds something in the mines.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know my history it a bit off by a few years from the canon date in the show but let's just pretend it was set a teeny bit earlier haha</p><p>I'm trying to get all of the intro chapters out quickly, please leave any comments or criticism you have! I'm still figuring out my writing style THANKS!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>'One more hour, that’s all, that’s nothing. Just one more hour.' </p><p> Nancy had one more hour left of her shift. She was sweating and dirty. There was dirt in her hair, in her eyes, probably even her nose. There was no escaping dirt down in the mines.<br/>
Her shoulders ached against the harness. The only noise filling the tunnel was her ragged breath and the incessant squeaking of the coal wagon she pulled behind her. </p><p> “Toby! Are you alive up there?” A small child poked its head around the corner, into the dim light of Nancy’s candle. It was Toby’s job to open the trapdoor for Nancy when she reached him a few times an hour for twelve hours every single day. He was a young boy of around seven, apprenticed to the mines from the workhouse. He was a sweet kid. A bit skinny, but he could be worse from what Nancy had seen of other children from the workhouse. </p><p> “I’m here, Miss. I keep hearing that noise...” He said, trailing off towards the end.<br/>
“I told you before, Toby, it’s just rats, you must see a hundred a day down here! The dark plays tricks on you sometimes.” She caught a little smile in the candle light. “Tell you what, you get going home, I don't have too many runs left, I can do it myself.”<br/>
“Thank you, Miss!” Nancy continued on, dragging the cart through the trapdoor, Toby could be heard scurrying off through the tunnel behind her. </p><p>******</p><p> Nancy heaved the last wagon of coal through the trapdoor. She could almost feel the warmth of the water from the bathhouse, it was going to take some serious scrubbing to get through the inch thick layer of coal dust and dirt she’d accumulated today. </p><p> Something shifted the dirt in the darkness. Not much, but she definitely heard it. No one else should have been here and as much as she wanted to believe the lie she had told Toby, it was definitely not rats. It was heavy and purposeful and oddly, it seemed to be moving towards her direction.<br/>
Lots of things happen in the dark of the mines, not all of them dangerous. Sometimes the children working would get lost when they ran off to avoid their work, sometimes the miners themselves would make their way far into the tunnels for some 'alone' time. Lots of things happen in the dark where no one is watching, it didn’t have to be something sinister.</p><p> “Okay, c’mon now.” She yelled into the dark, keeping a light but firm tone to her voice. “I don’t know what you’re doing down here and I don’t care, but you’ve been scaring my trapper all bloody day!” Nancy crawled her way through the darkness, holding her candle out in front of her. The shifting continued, becoming more and more erratic as she moved further into the tunnel. “D-don’t try anything funny.” she stammered. “There are at least ten miners still on shift within hearing distance, I’ll scream and you’ll be sorry” The only reply Nancy got was more shifting in the dark. Her candle wasn’t giving her much light but she was definitely getting closer to the source of the noise. </p><p> An arm shot out of the dark, grabbing her wrist and knocking the candle away. Nancy tried to pull back, to pull away from whoever it was, but the hand was solid and un-moving. A groan echoed all around her. Nancy screamed. </p><p>******</p><p> The miners had come just like Nancy had said they would. They all rallied around, bringing with them light and most importantly, pickaxes, but what they saw would stop them all dead. It was a man who had grabbed Nancy. A red man. Bright red and almost frozen. His face was stiff with fear, an expression he seemed unable to recover from. His eyes were pleading, he couldn’t speak. The mob was bewildered. Nancy hooked herself under the mans arms. ‘Someone help me!’ she had cried, ‘He needs help!’<br/>
But no sooner had they dragged the man's stiff body to the surface, was he dead. No clues as to why except for his crimson skin and even then none of them could string a thought together about the connection. Nancy stayed with his body while they waited for the coroner. She had tried to close his eyes but couldn’t. The skin was stuck. </p><p> Nancy had worked in the mines all of her adult life. Hours and hours every day were spent in darkness, alone, with nothing but the noise of rats, and that fucking squeaking wagon to keep her company. No light penetrated the mine, there was only dust. Dust that burnt everything it touched. Your mouth, your eyes, even your skin if you weren’t careful. A burning that penetrated deep into your body, reaching through your lungs and burrowing further and further until it killed you. Everyone knew someone who died from being in the mines.<br/>
The mines terrified Nancy no matter how much time she spent in them. So what had terrified this man so much that he ran for safety in them?<br/>
Nancy wanted to know, she needed to know. Crimson skin flashed in her mind, keeping sleep at bay. Frightened eyes in crimson skin, pleading for help. Just before his death, the stranger had gripped Nancy’s sleeve so tight she thought he'd rip the fabric. His eyes bore into hers as he forced his body to choke out a final word. </p><p>'Sweetville'.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Crimson Horror</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nancy meets a new ally in her journey to bring down Sweetville.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have been really struggling to get into the mood to write anything with everything going on currently. And with the fact I'm still working, it's been a tad stressful. </p><p>Thank you anyone who is still reading, I'm still working on my flow &amp; the style of my writing, but I hope you'll bear with me :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dozens of faces lined the pews. White walls surrounded all, a pristine sanctuary from the world outside. People from all walks of life were here. Poor and wanting. Rich and wanting more. And Nancy was among them, inside Sweetville. Well, inside the factory in the grounds of Sweetville at least. Nancy felt like a young girl again, attending Church on a Sunday. <br/> An older, almost haggard woman stood before them, lined either side by her un-moving apostles. Mrs Gillyflower. Small but fierce, she commanded the room before her, each face clinging to every word she spoke. </p><p> “Will you be found wanting,” Gillyflower cried, her voice thundering through the makeshift church, “when the end of days has come, when judgement rains down upon us all?” Nancy glanced around herself nervously. They were all buying it. Every single one! Latching onto her words, drinking them up like the gods nectar. Terrified about the end of days only Gillyflower had somehow discovered. “Or will you be preserved against the coming apocalypse?”<br/> “Bit of an odd word that, isn’t it? <em>‘Preserved’</em>?” Nancy snapped her attention to the other, lone girl standing beside her. She was around the same age as Nancy, with dark hair and a kind face. <br/> “Now that you mention it.” Nancy smiled, “You’re definitely not from ‘round here are you.” she said, commenting on the girls definitely Southern accent.<br/> “Nah, up from London me. I’m Jenny.”<br/> “Well bet you’re loving this flea market then, I’m Nancy” </p><p>“Join us! On the shining city on the hill! On Sweetville!” Gillyflower retreated from her stage, with her minions in close pursuit. Her milky eyed daughter followed slowly after. </p><p>******</p><p> “You don’t exactly look like you’re here to join the party, Nancy.” quizzed Jenny. Shortly after the sermon they had been ushered into another room, waiting in line to prove themselves worthy of Sweetville to Mrs Gillyflower. Nervous voices buzzed around them. Every so often, some poor soul would fly past them, out the door. Their cries ringing high above the factory noises. Not good enough for Gillyflower apparently, not good enough for her vision of a perfect world. </p><p> Nancy kept her gaze to the floor, assessing how to reply to Jenny who’s eyes she could feel were still on her face. <br/> “What have you heard about this place, Jenny?” She eventually replied, meeting her gaze with a furrowed brow. The seconds felt like hours as the two young women stared at one another, an entire conversation in silence held by the fire in each other's eyes.<br/> “By the looks of things, I'd say you've heard the same. So why don’t we take a little detour?” </p><p> A well placed shilling gave Jenny and Nancy the distraction they needed. The woman in line behind them, with a kind smile and crooked teeth, hit the ground with a dull thud giving the young women time to slip through the side door Jenny had skilfully unlocked with a hairpin. </p><p>******</p><p> The sounds of the factory blared even louder in their ears. Grinding of machinery, clanging and screeching in it’s daily routine. The noises were almost overwhelming the deeper they went into the factory. It bounced off the walls, vibrating in their ears. The women were vigilant, carefully making their way through each room, hiding in every corner, in every crack they could find.</p><p> But there was nothing.</p><p> No machines, no workers, nothing. This wasn’t a real factory. Just white walls with giant, golden, gramophones, pumping the artificial noise into the air. Someone was trying very hard to keep up this charade. </p><p> Jenny and Nancy said nothing as they climbed further into the ‘factory’. Their short time together had been one of understanding, two women with two motives that had one result. To solve the mystery of Sweetville. <br/> The more they explored, the atmosphere shifted. Crisp, white walls turned brown, with dust lining the floors. Gillyflower’s ‘Pilgrims’, Nancy had heard them called, were becoming more abundant. They patrolled the corridors in ever growing numbers, slowing the two women down somewhat. </p><p> The noises were changing too. After a while of listening to the false noises in the air, Nancy realised they had rhythm. It followed a pattern that repeated itself, like a song playing over and over again. But these noises were changing, they were more organic somehow. <br/> Nancy didn’t have to wait long for her answer. The real factory was here. <br/> Gillyflower’s Pilgrims all worked in perfect synchronicity, turning dials, pulling levers. Nancy could do nothing more than stare in horror at the assembly before her eyes.<br/> People. Real, human people, some that Nancy even recognised from the sermon this morning, were being lifted by the real machines of Sweetville and dipped into caustic, burning, crimson liquid. Pickled and <strong>preserved</strong>.</p><p> “Reject!” One of the Pilgrims cried, as freshly dipped bodies were dropped onto the floor, like carcasses in a butcher shop. Two other men swiftly made their way to the pile, plucking the one whose skin had turned a glaring scarlet red. <br/> She was a reject, the process had killed her. Just like the man in the mines. </p><p>“Nancy.” Urged Jenny, dragging her away from the scene. “You need to leave, I need to call my friends.”</p><p> “I’m not going anywhere!” Nancy hissed. “I’m staying and I’m figuring out what the hell is going on here. With your help or not.” Nancy glared at Jenny, rooting herself to the spot.</p><p> “Fine.” Sighed Jenny. “But we both need to leave. Now. We need to find my friends. We need backup.” </p><p>******</p><p> Midnight is a cold time to be waiting outside. Having nowhere else to go until Jenny’s ‘friends’ arrived, the two women had some time to talk. There’s not much bonding to be had when infiltrating god knows what. Because Nancy didn’t know what. At all. But it only made her all the more willing to stay with Jenny to find the answer. </p><p> “So you just left your life,” Jenny said, “You just left your whole, entire life because you found one of the rejects in the <em>mine</em>.” The way Jenny said the word ‘mine’ rubbed Nancy the wrong way a little bit. <br/> All her life Nancy was at the bottom of the food chain. An orphan, sent to the workhouse where they quickly learned she wasn’t as scared of the dark as the other kids and could be sent down the mines for hours upon hours on end. Not that she wasn’t actually scared, she just knew how to hide it. She came out dirty and would never be clean again. There was always soot in her hair or coal under her nails. She stayed at the workhouse. Even now, at 26, she continued down the mines when others had found themselves a husband and pushed out a baby or two. No more work for those ‘lucky’ few. Retired to a life of baby vomit and housekeeping and a husband who came home stinking of the earth just to eat, sleep, and maybe fuck another baby into their young wife. <br/> The thought made Nancy feel sick. Like she used to feel down in the mines when she was still small, when the dark hugs you a bit too tightly. </p><p> “It wasn’t much of a life.” Nancy uttered. “I had to know what had happened to him, what could do that to him. Surely nothing human.” <br/> Jenny exploded in laughter, quickly clamping her hands on her mouth. <br/> “I’m sorry.” She giggled. “You just don’t know how right you are.” Nancy furrowed her brow at her new, somewhat friend. <br/> “It’s not funny, Jenny.” Nancy said, somewhat unsure of herself. She stared at the dark haired woman before her. Jenny’s face had relaxed into a sombre expression. <br/> “Nancy, there are things in this world and beyond, that would surprise you.”</p><p> At first, Nancy had thought this all some elaborate joke to make a fool of her. Lizard women and alien soldiers? An immortal man and a flying blue box? <em>‘Come on!’</em> she had laughed. But Jenny didn’t. <br/> "She’s my wife." Jenny whispered. "My mistress, yes, but my wife." She stared at Nancy for a long time waiting for her answer, her face turned to stone, hiding any expression. Nancy stared back. <br/> "Okay." She finally replied. "Okay."</p><p> As much as Nancy had told herself that she accepted the truths Jenny told her, actually seeing them in person was a completely different thing altogether. <br/> It was almost 1am when a carriage pulled up, shrouded in the darkness. The dim street lamps didn’t do a good job lighting up the scene that Nancy so eagerly, and yet so nervously, waited to see. <br/> A voice called Jenny to the carriage, female and angry. Jenny immediately ran to its source. Not much could be heard by Nancy, who stayed put where Jenny had left her. Every now and then she heard a <em>‘Human!’</em> and frantic, what sounded like pleading, from Jenny. But nothing more. Someone, maybe something, was watching her from the front of the carriage. The silhouette of the driver hadn’t moved since they had come to a stop, so much so, Nancy had almost convinced her that it was a trick of the light. That is, until they descended from the carriage and made their way towards her. </p><p> It was a man. Well, almost a man. They definitely fitted the description of the one Jenny had called ‘Strax’. He was short, but still a little taller than Nancy’s 5’2”, and muscular. Very muscular. He made his way to Nancy with a fierce determination, pointing an unfamiliar weapon towards her. He stopped a mere 6 feet away, glaring towards her, his dark skin glinted under the orange flames of the street lamp. <br/>“Do not move, human” he spat at her. </p><p>******</p><p>Thankfully, Jenny came running before Strax got too carried away. <br/> “Back off , Strax!” Yelled Jenny “She’s a friend.” Strax immediately relaxed, lowering his weapon. <br/> “Well, I wasn’t to know was I, Miss?” He retorted, somewhat irritated.  </p><p> Jenny did most of the talking on their way back to Sweetville, filling in her companions on the day's events. Nancy, unashamedly had absolutely no words at the moment. She was too busy staring at her new acquaintances. <br/> Madame Vastra, Jenny’s wife, and apparently employer, was tall, slender, and absolutely beautiful. She was also covered head to toe in green scales. Instead of hair, she had what Nancy could only describe as horns, hidden under a dark velvet hood. <br/> Strax on the other hand, the one who had pointed a blaster, as he had called it, at Nancy, was Madame Vastra’s butler. He was wearing the strangest clothes Nancy had ever seen. It was a form fitting bodysuit, grey with a blue collar and shoulder pads. <em>‘They are not shoulder pads, Miss.’</em> He had sighed exasperatedly at her when she questioned him. <em>‘This is highly sophisticated Sontaran armour. Nothing can get through it!’</em> He had banged his three-fingered fist quite proudly on his chest at that. </p><p> “We need to get to the bottom of this, tonight. Where do you suggest we start.” Vastra asked Jenny, stopping the group suddenly. Sweetsville was in clear view. The iron gates of the entrance was dimly lit by the street lights and the silhouettes of guards could be seen vaguely in the distance, patrolling inside of the grounds. Smoke poured from the chimney of the factory, the smell of the smoke burned Nancy’s nostrils the closer they got. It was a metallic smell she couldn’t quite place. What smelled like that when it burned? Nancy couldn’t think of anything. All she knew was coal, but Sweetville didn’t use any.</p><p> It dawned on Nancy then. Sweetville didn’t burn coal. They didn’t burn anything. The factory, the noises, it had all been faked. It was a front. Jenny and herself had discovered this that same day, how could they be so stupid?</p><p> “We start at the chimney.” Nancy announced, facing the others with a new found confidence. “Jenny, the factory wasn’t real! It was all fake, remember?” Jenny’s eyes widened in realisation, a smile creeping on her lips.</p><p> “So then where is the smoke coming from.”</p><p>******</p><p> The odd looking group infiltrated the factory under the cover of night. Nancy had been right about the chimney, there they had found the true purpose of Sweetville and the real source of the smoke. Gillyflower and her minions planned to launch a rocket, flying it high over England, poisoning the sky. The red liquid, as Madame Vastra had said, was the poison of an ancient creature, a leech which had almost decimated her own species 65 million years ago. She spoke as if she was actually there, <em>‘The very thought of it’</em>, Nancy had wondered to herself. </p><p> Gillyflower was now herself bound to the leech, the real Mr Sweet. Latched onto her paper thin skin with claws and sucking the salt from her very sweat. The leech had poisoned her body and her mind, corrupting her senses to bring about the destruction it craved. </p><p> The rocket was stopped. The poison, destroyed. And when Gillyflower fell to her death, with the help of a well placed shot by Strax's blaster, Mr Sweet left her, tossing her aside like a used napkin. </p><p>******</p><p> It was Jenny who asked Nancy to return to London with them, <em>‘Well we do need another maid, Madame! Strax is next to useless at everything except opening the bloody front door!’</em></p><p> It hadn’t been a hard choice for Nancy once Madame Vastra had decided she wasn’t going to eat the girl to keep her from blabbing about the lizard woman, the assassin and the alien that lived together in London. What did Nancy have now? She’d never made a family and she certainly didn’t have a job down in the mines anymore. And what else could she do? What would anyone hire her for now? </p><p> Well apparently, a detective in training.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I do appreciate any kind of criticism or even any tips you might have on my writing!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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